


So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

by Honestly Neptune (mypennameishidden)



Category: Prey (Video Game 2017)
Genre: Gen, Lot of cursing, Morgan and Markus are siblings handling this shit together, Morgan is doing an all human run Markus is doing an all Typhon run and Alex is still a dick, shit's fucked, twins! au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-05-25 12:56:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14977610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mypennameishidden/pseuds/Honestly%20Neptune
Summary: Yu twins Morgan and Markus attempt to survive Talos 1 together even as one sibling gets more alien and one sibling gets more pissed off.Twins!au cause I love that shit. Non-chronological most likely.





	So No One Told You Life Was Gonna Be This Way

“You have that last EMP charge ready yet?”

“I just want you to know, this is a terrible idea and we’re going to die. Shotgun loaded?”

“Of course it is. I’m not the one holding things up right now.”

“I’m sorry I don’t fancy dying - and dooming all of mankind - so you can make yourself some more neuromods just to turn into a fucking cup.”

Morgan’s brother smirked, Markus already peeking around the corner at the looming technopath which floated in the way between them and the office they needed. Of course someone put a regulation on neuromod fabrication. At least someone on Talos 1 wasn't an idiot.

But now Markus needed to lift the fucking neuromod regulation so he could keep stabbing his eyes for kicks. Morgan sighed, regretting the circumstances that stuck her with Markus instead of Alex, who was just as cautious but twice as vicious.

No matter how many times she protested, she also knew that they couldn’t leave one of those meances with free reign over Fabrication. The materials they could gather here and turrets they could collect outweighed the cost of their last EMP by quite a bit. She was still scared. Still pissed. Still enabling.

It was only two hours ago that she had stayed behind in Hardware to craft some more bullets while Markus went on a spacewalk. Ten minutes in he was still out there, tracking down some poor worker’s corpse when the comms fizzled then went static.

“It’s - - - - HUGE - - - - fuck? I need - - - - - wait I think - - - - killed it! But it fried my suit pretty badly. Craft me another repair kit if we have the materials.” The moments in between, with nothing but buzzing and the rush of blood in her ears, had been the scariest moments since waking up in this nightmare. Morgan didn’t know what she would have done if Markus had been killed in space. She didn’t want to think about it.

So, yeah, that had fucked her up pretty badly. And that had been before they trekked all the way to Psychotronics, so it wasn’t until now that they figured out what the fuck this thing was. Technopath. Corrupted any and all nearby operators and turrets. Could fry their suits and stop their movements. 

And of course, Markus wasn’t terrified at all after killing one of them. To him, any and all Typhon were the unlucky ones to be trapped on Talos I with the Yu twins. God, he was batshit. But she wasn’t going to let him fight it alone.

So she followed him back to the Neuromod Division, hacked her way into Fabrication, and resisted the urge to run the fuck away when she saw the huge floating bastard. Markus really didn’t deserve her. 

“So, you go left, I go right?” He ducked behind the doorway again, pressing her against the wall with his arm as one of the corrupted operators floated past. “Maybe we should go all-out, Rambo style.”

“Maybe,” she whispered viciously, “We should come up with an actual fucking plan.”

“Boring,” he sing-songed, then charged. What could she do but follow?

\-----

“Morgan, I am unable to retrieve any more data for you. Once you fabricate a copy of the arming key then more directives may be unlocked.”

“Fuck.”

Morgan was interrogating January again. Markus could hear her from the Recycler, even if she tried to be quiet about it. For all her skill at sneaking past mimics, his twin had never quite learned how to whisper effectively.

That was a good thing, in the grand scheme of things. Alex was too good at hiding, at lying, at controlling his grand empire of secrecy. Markus didn’t trust him now, and the existence of January was proof-positive he hadn’t trusted him before. He trusted Morgan, though. He would even if he didn’t have to. 

But, well, moot point because he did have to. The whole “Probably only two people who can save the station and the world” thing meant going solo had long past been an option. And besides, the old “versions” of them didn’t prefer going solo, considering they agreed to test in the simulation as a pair. He couldn’t remember it but he could believe it. He would never let Morgan undergo that kind of thing alone.

It was comforting, the thought that no matter who he was, no matter how many memories he had, he could trust his sister. It was the only reason he didn’t spacewalk without a helmet, really. Markus couldn’t imagine trying to survive this station with the Typhon, or worse, Alex, breathing down his neck alone. 

They were approaching apocalypse level disaster together, but at least they were together. Hooray!

He wouldn’t tell Morgan that, though. No need to get all sappy on her.

(She knew, anyway. She had to.)

\-----

Markus had to have been the one to program January - only he could make a robot that irritating. Jesus, the thing could talk for hours without explaining anything that had actually happened on Talos 1.

How did the Typhon escape containment? Why were the escape pods sabotaged? Why did Alex keep Markus and I in the simulation where we could have died? When did we create January? Does Alex know about January? What is Alex’s contingency plan if it’s not destroying the station?

January's answer: Fuck if I know, get the Arming Key.

It was like trying to talk to the Nightmare for all the good it did them. Oh, and another thing to worry about while they wasted time waiting for Markus to replicate and then insert twenty neuromods: what to do about the Nightmare. It was fast, strong, perceptive, and almost as determined as Alex is to ruin her life. The last time it showed up Markus’ plan was to split up, of course, because nothing says “Genius prodigy inventor” like using Scooby Doo logic. Obviously that wasn’t an option but killing the thing was way out of the realm of possibility. 

Morgan knew Markus wanted to try now that he was basically half-Typhon himself. It wasn’t enough. Hell, he could barely take down the turrets once they started blasting at him. She had to hack them now to make sure they didn’t shoot at Markus, no matter how much he might deserve it.

Fucking January was no fucking help. There was really only one thing to do: head up to the bridge to see if she could gain better access to Talos 1’s network. And the Captain had “golden gun” according to Makrus, and that had to be better than the peashooter they were carting around. Except the Nightmare was at the Bridge last time they checked and so the problem started again. 

“Hey, do you think you could help me with this Morgan?” Markus drawled from the floor, sounding stoned of all things. “I’m quickly losing my depth perception!” Her laughed to himself and she heard a clatter of uncoordinated limbs meeting glass canisters. Neuromods. Fuck. She could never leave him unsupervised.

She leveraged herself up from the sofa, limbs aching from all the running and wrench-swinging she had done in the past 24 hours. Markus was sitting on the floor in front of the fabricator, legs akimbo, a pile of empty neuromods on one side and about five primed ones on the other.

Fuck. Worse than she thought. Even the records of the testing indicated neither of them and ever inserted more than five on the same day. His skin was pale, his hand was twitching, and his veins were pulsing black.

“Are you trying to kill yourself, idiot? You can’t jam twenty of those in your head at once.” Morgan snarled, crossing the office space in a few seconds and ripping Markus from the floor. She practically threw him into one of the desk chairs, kicking the neuromods haphazardly in her rage. 

Fucking Markus, killing himself and leaving her to finish everything on her own. Fucking Markus, leaving her alone with the Typhon and Alex and January. Fucking Markus, trying so hard to protect the both of them he ends up in a goddamn coma. She really hated this station.

Markus gifted her with his most charming smile, hampered only by his bleeding eye and nose. His face was an absolute mess and he didn’t seem to care at all. Of course, he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t care about himself - that was her job.

January floated by, a medikit in its grip, and managed to hover judgmentally over Markus’ prone form. Morgan barely spared it a glance, reaching for the kit before her wrist was snatched by a blank tentacle.

Her hand was already on her pistol before she realized the tentacle was attached to Markus’ wrist. Because now he didn’t have a hand. Fucking Markus.

“Don’t waste that one me - the more I take, the more Typhon I become, the more my body accepts new Typhon material. I should be fine in just a second.” He tried to look reassuring, ruined by all the dried blood, and Morgan couldn’t stop the flinch that overcame her, the instinctive reaction to rip her hand back and retreat. She jerked violently, Markus holding tight for a millisecond before released her and turned the thing back into his hand. He looked pained.

Morgan didn’t care - couldn’t care. She wasn’t good at this kind of thing, was never good at this kind of thing. At the very least, she couldn’t remember ever being brave or confrontational or strong. She was the clever one, the one on the computer, the one who stayed behind the screens and far away from human testing - that’s what all the emails said. Markus was the one who was supposed to be the fighter, to be tough, but he had never scared her before.

But now, with the Typhon, he seemed to be getting more and more alien, a phantom in all but appearance, and it scared the shit out of her. He knew she didn’t like neuromods so he took the majority of them; the more Typhon the got, the more alien he became. She didn’t do anything to stop it.

Hacking the terminals, repairing the turrets, scanning and fixing and building. It was nothing, while Markus was a one-man army tearing through the station. 

She was fucking useless, and now he was going to make her handle this shit herself while he took his own eye out? She wouldn’t last a minute outside the office without him. He knew that, he had to know that, so why was he doing this?

\-----

Markus had just been stabbing needles in his eyes for the last twenty minutes or so and using them to inject alien matter into his brain, but seeing his sister flinch away from him made him want to keep stabbing until he went blind. To be honest, he hadn’t really considered the consequences of rewriting his DNA to become a freaky alien creature. He was ready to ride this wave of adrenaline and foolish bravery until Morgan solved the whole thing. He was the attack dog, you know? He followed her around, killing all the aliens that got to close. The only thing he had to worry about was finding the most efficient way to do so. Morgan was never supposed to be scared of him.

He was hers, didn’t she know that? They were the brains and brawns, the head of the Research Department and the head of Containment. She created, he implemented, They covered each other for every weakness, every flaw, every hesitation. They were a team. She couldn’t be scared of him. She shouldn’t be scared of him. But she flinched.

He turned into a mug. He couldn’t help it! He was panicked and Morgan was pressed up against the wall as far as possible and January was still hovering and he just didn’t want to be there anymore. So, naturally, mug. Things became calmer, after that. He had no eyes, not really, so less pain. His headache dulled.

Morgan huffed out a laugh against the wall, calming down slightly. His view from the mug was a bit hazy and indistinct but he could see her doing her breathing exercises, the 4-7-8 technique that he taught her, and thought it would be safe to come out of the mug.

He popped out again, sprawling over the office chair once again. 

“Jesus, Markus, over dramatic much? I’m not going to hurt you.” Her voice was strained, desperately reaching for normalcy and falling somewhat short. He tried to grin. He didn’t.

“And I’m not going to hurt you. No hurting - wonderful!” Markus inched his way up into sitting position. His patience was rewarded when Morgan drew closer once again, now standing within reach of the desk. She fidgeted but didn’t retreat when he grabbed the medikit. 

“How about I patch myself up and we go? I’ll carry the neuromods and use them later.” Voice low, coaxing, she really couldn’t fall apart right now. But the second he said neuromod she flinched again and glared, either at him or her own reaction.

“No more neuromods. I’ll take those, learn how to upgrade our weaponry. I think I can finally get my pistol to do more damage than the fucking boltcaster.” Full bravado. 

“Fuck that, I know you’re not comfortable with neruo-”

“I can handle it-”

“-Mods after everything Alex did to us and-”

“-Just fine and you’re and idiot if you think I’m going to let you-”

“-I completely understand so just let me-”

“-Take all the neruomods.”

Fuck.

**Author's Note:**

> I'll probably post more I just don't know when. Give me ideas in the comments if you want!


End file.
